


Learning Fast

by Auty_Ren



Series: Waiting Up [4]
Category: Star Wars, Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Doggy Style, Exhibitionism, F/M, Hints of Non-con, Light Dom/sub, Mando is a cocky asshole but we love him anyway, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Unprotected Sex, canonical violence, use and description of weapons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:35:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27370573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Auty_Ren/pseuds/Auty_Ren
Summary: Maybe you had bitten off more than you could chew. Or maybe Mando wasn't as tough a teacher as you thought.
Relationships: The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian & Reader, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian & You, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/ You, The mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/ Reader
Series: Waiting Up [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1834378
Comments: 8
Kudos: 194





	Learning Fast

**Author's Note:**

> Hope y’all are enjoying the new season! I know I am lol. This has been sitting in a draft for a while, and I finally got the inspiration to finish it! Enjoy babes.
> 
> P.s.: If anyone is interested in a visual for Mando’s tattoos @dadolorian on Tumblr has some beautiful drawings that were part of my inspiration for this.

“How does it feel?”

You ran your finger over the barrel, the metal was scuffed and discolored from years of use; this blaster had lived a lifetime, possibly even before Mando had gotten it.

“It’s….different.”

It was heavy in your palm, heavier than you expected; as if the sudden burden of carrying a weapon came down on you all at once. You had never killed anyone. You don't even think if it came down to it; if it was you against someone else if your only way of surviving was to take someone's life that you could pull the trigger.

Hopefully, you hadn't bitten off more than you could chew.

“Try it.”

Mando gestured to one of the trees that surrounded the clearing you stood in. The trunk stood wide enough that you and Mando could hide behind it easily, the wood a deep red color that was thick and covered with a thin layer of sticky sap. There was hardly any chance you would miss it, considering you only stood about ten feet away from it. The perfect target right? That's why Mando brought you out here, in the middle of nowhere, on a small planet in the outer rim. You hadn't seen any signs that anyone inhabited the planet when you landed, from what you could tell there was hardly a population density; no New Republic settlements or any remnants of the Empire.

“The perfect place.” Mando had assured you, taking his rifle off the rack and handing it to you to carry. “There'll be no one to bother us.”

You could tell he was enjoying this a little too much, his ego is thriving off being able to show you up. It felt less like a lesson and more like a show with each minute that passed. You knew he took this seriously but he seemed to enjoy watching you struggle a bit too much. No matter how nonchalant Mando seemed about it, carrying a gun was dangerous and something you had never done before.

“Shouldn’t we try something more basic?” 

“Basic?”

His tone was deadpan and made you want to roll your eyes and the way his hip cocked to the side.

“Like fighting with my hands?” You gestured outwardly, not so convinced yourself that it was the best option. “Won’t that be easier?”

“No, it won’t be.” 

You would’ve laughed had it not been for his change in demeanor, he sounded more annoyed with you the longer this was dragging out. Mando has one of the worst tempers you’ve ever seen, and you thought he would be a good teacher?

“Show me your stance.”

You got into what you thought was a fighting stance, but Mando seemed unimpressed. He huffed out a ‘No,’ and fixed your posture. He was rough with you, moving you with hands that held a steady grip.

“Bring your arms into your body, and stand with your legs further apart.” He grabbed your elbows and brought them to your sides, his boots pushed against yours until your stance was wider. “You need a strong base, otherwise you're just going to be knocked down.”

His body was warm the closer he got to you and you could smell that distinct pine scent that always clung to his clothes. If he noticed you staring he didn’t care, he just seemed to want and get this over with as soon as possible. You tried to make a mental note of everything he said, remembering what he showed you until he took his place across from you. At first, it seemed like he was going spar with you, and although it initially scared you, it couldn’t be that hard and you tried to lighten the mood.

"Don't go easy, I'll never be able to take a hit if you don't try."

He was amused, to say the least, something akin to a laugh filtering through his helmet and causing your face to heat with embarrassment. He leaned forward slightly, your eyes refusing to keep contact with his visor as he got closer to you.

"I'm not doing that."

“Why not?”

He ignored you and began to walk back over to the speeder you rode in on. If you hadn't already thought of strangling him, you wanted to now.

“Arms up.”

He wasn’t asking, but frankly, you didn’t care, you crossed your arms over your chest, sitting on one of the tree stumps nearby.

“I'm not fighting you, not when you're going to let me win,”

Maybe you were throwing a fit or acting childish but it didn’t matter to you. If Mando could be a stubborn asshole, you could too.

“I never said I would let you win.”

He turned back towards you now and was in your space faster than you expected him. He leaned down to where your eyes were level, his arms braced against your temporary seat and effectively trapping you.

“If you want to learn anything, you're going to learn it my way.”

He accentuated those last two words with just enough force to have your skin crawling, the syllables piercing your ears in a low rumble that came from his chest.

“Arms up.”

There was no room for argument, he returned to his full height and you were left with an empty feeling when he walked away from you.

“I doubt anyone is gonna mess with me as long as you're around.” You huffed, standing back up and dusting off the butt of your pants. 

You stood across from Mando, watching as he picked up his rifle from the seat of the speeder, his back was turned to you but you felt the tension he carried. He loaded it with one of the cans he pulled from his bag, the weapon humming to life, a sound that flooded your ears and drowned out the peaceful background of the forest. After what felt like hours of you watching Mando’s hand fiddle with the trigger he spoke up.

“What if I'm the one chasing you?”

He almost seemed too passive about it, as if his very words hadn't shot straight through your chest; your body aching as the barest hints of excitement filled your veins. Your cheeks tingle as the warmth spreads to your face, your breath caught in your lungs as you try to think of what to say to him. If there was anything that could be said.

He gets a little impatient, turning his head to look at you over his shoulder. Your stomach dropping when he faces you, his footsteps heaving and resounding as he makes his way towards you.

“Then the odds are definitely against me.” You finally squeaked out, your eyes glued to the lines etched into the center of his cuirass; following the same pattern as a distraction over and over until he broke your concentration.

The sound his rifle made as it hit the ground felt much louder than it should have been, the butt of it kicking up dirt as he held the barrel in one hand; using as a makeshift staff as he came to a stop in front of you. He was domineering, his posture felt larger than life with that smugness he carried rolling off him in waves. You wanted to hate him, to scream in his face and call him every vile name known throughout the Galaxy because you know that's what he deserved.

But you couldn't, you wouldn't. 

You hated the hold that he had over you; something that was almost suffocating and no matter how hard you clawed at it, the grip never loosened. Persistent and relentless, just like he was. You wanted to hate him, but you never would. Not when it felt so good. Not when you felt so warm and protected in his arms; even if it was only temporary. Those fleeting moments of bliss you shared in-between kisses in the dark, his touch almost gentle as his hands traced over the expanse of your skin, moments that were burned into your memory and are so contradictory to the man before you. 

The chuckle that came through his modulator was dark, and you could practically imagine the face he was making under his helmet. His hand came into your view, pulling your eyes away from their task as he tucked a stray piece of your hair behind your ear; an almost tender gesture that completely clashed with his demeanor. His fingers followed the line of your jaw, tickling you as he traced down to your chin. You wanted to lean into his touch, your eyes slipping closed briefly as you imagined his hand caressing your face; the warm leather of his gloves tracing your skin and scratching lightly at your scalp as they pushed into your hair. But as quickly as he had begun touching you, his hand fell away; your eyes shooting open to look at the dark t-shaped visor that stared back at you.

“I think you've got a fair shot.” He seemed sincere, his shoulders shrugging slightly as his head tilted to the side.

“You do?”

You felt so silly, like some stupid, little, lovestruck girl as your nervously picked at your fingers; but part of you want so bad to have his approval.

“We'll see.”

He walked away, the tension you had been holding in your chest releasing with a single breath the moment he stepped away from you. He walked back over to the speeder, his hand reaching for something in one of the bags. He fumbled around for a moment, finally pulling out a tracking fob. He ran his thumb over the face, the beeping faint and the red light shining brightly against the dark metal it was made of.

He didn't mention he was hunting a bounty.

The beeping was faster than normal, the rhythm quickening with ever slight movement; the promise that the target was close by. Mando stared down at the device he held, the leather of his other hand groaning as his fingers flexed around the hold on the pulse rifle.

You felt ice flood through your veins as the realization hit you, your body falling into fight or flight, and your muscles seizing in anticipation. You released a shuddering breath as he turned towards you, his body following the fob that laid in his palm; the beeping becoming rapid as it pointed in your direction. You wouldn't dare move until he spoke to you, with just one word he set off something like a fire in your belly; your body reacts before your mind even had the chance to catch up.

“Run.”

-

You tried to remember everything at once. Your body and your brain working at two different speeds and screaming at each other until everything was muddled.

It felt like you knew nothing at all.

Your lungs burned with every breath you took; short, rapid intakes that left your head spinning as you gulped into as much air as you could.

You couldn't think of anything Mando had ever told you: any tidbit you had picked up from watching him hunt countless bounties, anything he had dared to teach you, even things you knew long before you met Mando were gone. Your initial thought was to hide, to get as far away from him as possible, and hide.

Yeah, that's sure gonna work.

Your legs were burning, painfully aching as you stopped for a moment. You had been running for a while, you had no idea if Mando was behind you or not and you feared he was right on your tail.

So you hid. And you hoped he wasn't too close behind.

Resting only for a moment behind one of the giant trees that covered the forest floors. He had given you a headstart, or at least you assumed he had; but it didn't matter, either way, it never took Mando long to catch up to a bounty. Especially when he put his mind to it, and you had a feeling this was one of those times.

You couldn't see anything behind you, you would have to walk out from behind your tree to do that. So the most inviting option was to stay put, you had to think of something else, running aimlessly was going to get you nowhere. You noticed you were in a much denser part of the forest, most of the sun was blocked from the thick foliage of the trees; and the air felt thicker than it had before. You listened closely to your surroundings, stilling your breathing long enough to see if you could sense any movement. At first, you couldn't make out anything, and part of you wanted to believe it; that you had gotten away from him so quickly. 

But you knew Mando better than that, he wasn't going to let you off easy.

You gulped air, swallowing thickly as you leaned your head back. Broken rays of sun littered your face, shadows crawling along your skin as the trees swayed with a breeze. You could hear the rustling of the leaves in the canopy, the sound almost soothing as your heart finally calmed. You focused on what you could hear, realizing it was the only thing you had since you couldn't move from your spot. Your eyes slipped closed again, taking a few deep breaths through the nose as you tried to pick apart every sound. There was a faint buzzing of what you assumed were insects flying around, accompanied by the chittering of wildlife that seemed to reside in the canopy. You heard the leaves again, barely brushing against each other as another gust of wind traveled through the trees. It almost seemed safe, but there was something faint, something you swore seemed familiar but was so quiet it was hard to tell. You strained to listen for it, noting that it came in a pattern.

One, two. One, two. One, two.

It was almost gentle, quiet but you would recognize that sound anywhere.

...like the tiniest thump of someone’s weight landing on the ground…

You had spent months memorizing that same pattern as you listened to Mando move around the Razor Crest, making a mental note of where he was at almost any given time. The sound of Mando walking across the plated floors is what you fell asleep to most nights, and sometimes woke up to when he took longer hunting a bounty.

He was coming closer but was taking his sweet time. You figured he knew where you were, and if he hadn't already figured it out, you knew the fob he had would give it away easily.

Your best chance was to run, to take off, and never look back not even for a second. But you knew it wouldn't last, you were certain he'd stun you before you got very far.

But it was better than giving him the satisfaction of finding you.

You were certain he'd haul your ass over his shoulder, and every attempt to fight back would be pointless. He would overpower you and parade around like he needed a victory lap to showcase his success.

The least you could do was give him a fight. 

You were about to move when his footfall stopped, and your stomach leaped as you tried to figure out what he was doing. Was he waiting? Did he figure out you were going to run?

“Sweet girl,” he called out, his voice dripping like horny as your nickname rolled off his tongue. “I know you're here, don't make me come find you.”

He was teasing you? His voice sounded different, much sweeter than the deep rasp that usually came from his helmet. 

Why did he want to talk to you? He had never told you about taunting bounties before, he had even said once it's easier to only speak to them when necessary.

It was taunting, hoping you slip up if he coddled you just enough for your guard to come down.

Not gonna fall for that one Mando.

You stayed impossibly still, slightly relieved he sounded further away than you thought he had been. You couldn't help the smirk that split across your lips, although you know he was enjoying every second of this; part of you enjoyed the idea Mando was having to work, that he underestimated you.

Thunk.

He wasn't walking anymore, but he was moving something. The sound was dull and nearly impassable except for the faint scrap of metal that followed it.

Thunk. Thunk. Clink.

It was clearer this time, he was hitting something but you couldn't tell what.

“Sweet girl?” He asked for you again, but you stayed quiet, an incredible silence filling the air between the two of you.

Thunk. Thunk. THUNK.

That sound was getting louder, and you swore you heard Mando mumble something under his breath.

What was he doing?

Curiosity was taking over any rational thought you had, and you wanted to see what he was doing. You held your breath and turned with shaking limbs to look around the trunk of your tree.

Mando was standing in between a couple of neighboring trees and was a good distance away from where you were. He hadn't seen you or at least was pretending to not see you. The tracking fob was still in his hand and you watched as he smacked it against his palm and grunted when it seemed to stop working.

This was your chance.  
If you could get back to the Crest, you could lock yourself inside, and hopefully, this little game would be over.

For a moment, you thought it would work. You thought you had a chance as you turned back to brace yourself against the tree, and tried to plan out exactly what you were going to do. But it was short-lived; especially when you felt Mando’s hand wrap around your wrist. You couldn't even scream because his other hand was over your mouth. 

You struggled against his grip and his arms wrapped around your middle, lifting you off the ground as you kicked into the air. He lost his balance when you pushed your foot up against the tree and you both fell to the ground. You scrambled away when his grip loosened and almost got completely out of his reach; but he was quicker, grabbing hold of your arms and hauling you flush against his chest, both of you sitting up on your knees on the cold ground.

He stopped for a moment, chuckling when you kept trying to break away from him. You let out a frustrated groan, cursing as Mando held you even tighter. After what felt like forever struggling in Mando’s arms, you finally admitted defeat and your head fell back into his shoulder.

“Looks like I won, Sweet girl.”

You wanted to scream at him, as much as you hated it, he had won. 

Guess you had a lot more to learn. 

But then you felt his hard cock press into your backside and you realized maybe there was something you still had over Mando.

“You haven't even cuffed me yet,” you teased, grinding your ass against him with your self-satisfied smirk. “You're slipping, Mando.”

You felt the growl that left his chest and your stomach dropped when you felt him push against you, hard and throbbing under his pants. 

“You think so?”

He had your arms behind your head before you could think, the cold metal of Mando’s cuff locking shut with a clink. You held them above your head, even after Mando’s hands started to wander back down your body. He bunched the material of your tunic in his hands, ripping it open just enough so your breasts are exposed. You practically shriek as he squeezes them, his grip solid and almost painful as his leather fingers pinch your nipples. He takes you by surprise and pushes your face down onto the forest floor, your face pressing against the dirt, and your knees scraping against fallen foliage. You try to get back up onto your elbows and turn to look at Mando, but he catches you before you can get up, his hand landing between your shoulder blades as he holds you down.

“Don't move.”

You settle back into your position, your arms still above your head and your back arching as your ass is still flush against Mando. He tore the layers separating the two of you away from your body, and you felt the blunt tip of his cock press into your folds. 

He bottoms out in nearly one thrust, your walls fluttering around the rough treatment as he started thrusting into you. You felt heat spread across your face and down your neck, you could only imagine what a sight it was. Mando pressing you face-down into the dirt, with his cock buried deep inside your pussy. Your moans are muffled from the way you bite onto the material of your sleeve, his cock pushing deep inside of you and bumping your cervix.

Mando never really took things slow and it was moments like this that reminded you how ruthless he could be. His entire weight was behind each thrust, knocking the air from your lungs and leaving you completely at his mercy.

Not that you would ever complain about it.

“You're so fucking perfect.”

He took a handful of your hair and pulled your head back, his fingers twisting sharply until your face was next to his. You hardly recognized his voice as he talked to you, something akin to a snarl leaving his lips when you throbbed around him again.

“You're my sweet girl.”

It felt like you were burning up, fire erupting beneath your veins until it consumed your entire being. Your skin was twitching with need and every touch from Mando pushing you further and further to the edge of oblivion. 

“Yes,” you squeaked out, finally tasting the tears that streamed down your face. “I'm yours.”

He let go of your hair, instead deciding to hold your jaw, his fingers digging into your cheeks as he turned his face towards him. You felt the cool steel of his helmet against your flushed skin; the groans he released echoing in your ear, pure and unfiltered from how close he was.

“You're mine.”

He was crushing you beneath his weight, his hands bracing next to your head as he went harder, faster, and left you a whining mess underneath him. Your body ached painfully, muscles twitching and burning when you felt Mandos thrusts slow. He let out the filthiest noise as his cock twitched inside of you; your legs finally collapsing beneath his weight until you both just laid on the ground, catching your breath as the world stood silent around you.

Mando said something under his breath, in a dialect you didn't understand; but he touched you when he did, his hand running up and down your back and eventually brushing away the hair in your face. 

You wanted to ask him what he said, but it was forgotten as he moved to unlock the cuffs on your wrist, your skin stinging and slightly red from being held for so long. When you had finally collected yourself, you sat back on your ass and watched Mando gather his things off the ground. You looked down at the remnants of your shirt, trying your best to cover yourself until you could get back to the Crest. You looked up to find Mando staring, and you wanted to kill him from the cocky attitude he held.

“Told you, you had a fair shot.”

-

It was far too quiet back on the Razor Crest.

Mando had gone up to the cockpit when you first got back, and you hadn't heard from him since. You knew better than to go snooping, especially if Mando just wanted some privacy, the last thing you wanted to do was break his Creed in any way.

You fiddled around with some spare parts, most of them collecting dust and taking up far too much space in the tiny corner you called an engineering bay. You stood in front of the little box that had been your subject of interest for the past few weeks, something given to you by Mando after he took it from one of his bounties. For the life of you, this box had remained a mystery; you tried rewiring it, replacing a few parts you recognized, but nothing got it to work. Surprisingly, running diagnostics was even a dead end. You couldn't get the damned thing to do whatever it was made to do; and you were honestly getting sick of looking at it.

At one point you thought you maybe had it figured out, and you were so focused on it you hadn't even heard Mando come down from the cockpit. 

“Figure it out yet?”

Of all the times Mando had snuck up on you, you never got used to it. Even though you worked hard to make sure he didn't always have the jump on you, sometimes he did; and every time it scared the living daylights out of you. He chuckled when you put your hand to your chest, your exclamation dying out in a low groan once you realized it was just him. You sent him a glare over your shoulder, that certainly held no malice considering you couldn't help the grin that spread across your face.

“It's a radio,” you explained, turning a little so he could see your work. “I think.”

He came up behind you, bracing his hand on the table as he leaned his weight against it. He wasn't wearing his armor anymore, just his helmet, a simple tunic, and trousers. You saw the golden skin of his hand lying on the table next to you and felt the warmth of his other ghost across your back. You hadn't meant to stare, but it became obvious, especially since he had been talking to you but you handy acknowledged it.

He held his hand out for you, flexing his fingers as your eyes traced the patterns that peaked out from under the fabric of his tunic. You gingerly took his hand in yours, running your fingers over the back of his wrist as you pushed his sleeve up slightly with your free hand; your eyes darted up to gauge his reaction, part of you worried you had already crossed a line. 

You had never seen Mando out of his armor, it was so dark anytime you were together; and in some cases, he didn't even bother to take the armor off. You started to make out the shape of his tattoo, a skull similar to the one you had seen molded into the necklace he wore around his neck. The Mythosaur came into full view, covering most of his wrist and leading up his arm. It was decorated with bright colored lines that accentuated the darkness of the skull itself. Some writing was etched above it, something in a language you couldn't read; something you could only assume was Mando’s native tongue.

“For your Creed?” 

Your question hung in the air for a moment and you looked up to find Mando staring. It felt like a punch in the gut to stare back at him; even if you couldn’t see it, you knew his eyes were boring holes in your skull and it made you want to squirm under the attention.

“Not all of them.”

He gently pulled his hand from your grip and reached behind himself to pull the collar of his shirt over his head. He struggled for a moment, probably not used to having to take off his shirt with the helmet still on his head; when he was done, he tossed it to the side.

You had a feeling this was the barest Mando had ever been in front of someone for a while. Tattoos were littering up and down both of his arms and across his chest. He came closer to you, the details in each piece that decorated his body standing out further as your eyes focused. There was an air of anticipation, like something you both were expecting to happen as tension grew. His hand finally found yours, fingers lacing together as he moved your hand to splay on his chest. Your hand rested directly over the mudhorn that stood proudly against his tanned skin, the lines of the artwork raised slightly and forming ridges under your fingertips. His body was solid under your touch, but his skin was soft and warm as his chest barely rose with shallow breaths.

It felt very wrong like this was something you had never been meant to see. It was far too intimate, no carnal act you had ever done with him could compare to what was passing between the two of you now. You retreated, pulling your hand back. He grabbed your wrist before you could completely leave, part of you thinking it was best to walk away so you could calm the heat that was swirling in your chest and had spread to your face. He moved you to touch him again, his palm pressing into the back of your hand to keep you there.

“You've touched me before.”

His comment came from your sudden timid demeanor; he sounded confused almost like he didn't understand the sudden change in your behavior.

“This is different.” You admitted, your nails still barely scratching against his skin.

He was closer than before now, his familiar scent flooding your senses and making your heart skip a beat as his arms wrapped around you. He pulled at the material of your clothes, hauling your shirt up and off of your body and pressing you against his chest.

“Mando.”

You couldn’t think straight when he was touching you. It felt so good, like the feeling you always got when he held you. You wanted it so bad, but you were falling so far and you didn't think you could dig yourself out of this hole even if you tried.

“Tell me to stop, and I'll stop.”

That was always his promise, one that you appreciated and made your head feel fuzzy every time he whispered it to you.

“That's not it.”

He pulled your belt from the loops in your trousers, undoing the laces and letting them fall until they rested just above your mound.

“Then what is it.”

You nearly whimpered as he got on his knees in front of you, pulling your pants the rest of the way down your leg and eventually working both your pants and boots off of your legs.

“When I tell you to, you're going to look for me.”

He wasn't’ making any sense, and no matter how confused you probably looked, he didn't stop to explain. He stood back to his full height, grabbing onto your backside as he pressed himself against you again. Your arms instinctively wrapped around him, and he pulled your leg over his hip, picking you up and carrying you the two feet it took to get to your cot. 

“You're not gonna see my face, I know you won't. But I still want you to look.”

He laid you against the cot, shuffling until he kneeled in between your thighs. He leaned down just for a moment, the visor of his helmet only a few inches away from your face.

“You asked me if I trusted you?” He began, his words barely audible through the rasp of his modulator.

You remember that conversation, the one that started all of this ‘learning’ business. The one where you told him to start acting like he trusted you, like you were his partner, in whatever sense. 

“Well I do trust you, and I know you're not going to look unless I tell you to. So, when I give the signal, open your eyes.”

His voice was barely above a growl with his last few words, you could almost feel the snarl he wore and his words sent a wave of arousal straight to your core.

“And I want you to remember.”

After you closed your eyes you couldn't make out anything Mando was doing, it wasn't until he touched your legs again you had even realized what he was doing.

You felt something tickling your stomach, followed by a pair of familiar lips that left a trail down your belly. He planted wet kisses on your mound, leaving just enough pressure to have you whining; curling the blankets beneath you into fists as you begged him to keep going. When his tongue finally laid flat against you, dragging slowly from your entrance to your clit, you felt like you would combust.

Mando wasted no time after that, his hands harshly gripped your thighs as he set them over his shoulders and his face was buried in your dripping cunt. You already felt so wired, your body tingling and your core aching as you rocked your hips into his mouth. One of his hands moved to grip your hip, giving you two shapes squeezes as he molded the flesh to his hand.

That had to be what he meant.

You hesitated, but it seemed too obvious for it to mean anything else.

Open your eyes.

You did, and you were met with the dark ceilings of the Razor Crest; and no matter what you told yourself, you couldn't move your eyes. You were too afraid, what if you saw something you never should have. You didn't want to be the reason Mando broke his Creed, his livelihood.

The hand Mando had placed on your hip started to move, crawling up your belly until he squeezed your breast in his hand, just hard enough to make you gasp out a curse. 

“You're not gonna see my face, I know you won't.”  
He was right, you couldn't see him. What little of his face wasn't in-between your legs was covered by the dark curls of his hair.

You always thought he'd have dark hair.  
It was long and soft under your touch, and he moaned into your lips when you scraped your nails on his scalp. Your eyes followed his arms, one laying across your hip to steady you and the other still cupping your breast. You watched as his muscles flexed under his skin, his map of tattoos dancing with every movement he made. You wanted to trace every line that had been drawn on his skin, to memorize the patterns as if they were your own. You wanted to read them just as he could, and know their significance, their importance to him. 

You wanted to scratch your nails down his back, and make your mark over the giant Mythosaur that decorated his back; just like you had done plenty of times before without knowing. But you didn't move, you wouldn't dare break this moment with him. One that felt so much closer than any intimate act you had shared with him.

With your grip still on his hair, your free hand moved to grab the hand at your chest. His fingers immediately locked with yours, his grip almost painfully as he squeezed your hand in his.

Your body was arching into his touch, eyes slipping closed of their own accord as you felt the familiar throbbing of your core and Mando only cheered you on. He moaned into your pussy, sucking and licking in just the right places as he worked you through your release. 

He never slowed down not for a moment, not even when you're sure you had soaked the blankets beneath you and practically begged for him to be inside of you. But your pleas fell on deaf ears. For all the things Mando could be, stubborn was your least favorite trait. He squeezed your hand when your cunt flooded his mouth again, his silent promise that he wasn't done with you.

Not in the least.


End file.
